Faux foe

Phobias seem to come in two flavors.

Some are learned, historical: An attack by a dog leads to fear of dogs. And that makes perfect sense. If a possible outcome to a situational experience is already known, you’ll avoid that situation. Lightning can and does strike the same place frequently.

That type of behavioral adaptation could be considered prudent, in fact.

Other phobias, though, seem pre-wired into some of us. It’s possible they’re learned, but I can’t see how.

These are the ones that make you feel all squishy inside, or the way you feel after an electric shock. Tingly, wishing you could shake it off the way a Labrador shakes off water.

These are the ones that make no sense. They lurk in the back of the brain and jump out like a bad Halloween scare. And because they are mostly dormant, you don’t modify anything in your life until they hit you. And then — again — it takes a while to shake them.

Walking too close to a bridge railing gives me the feeling that something will pull me in. Well, maybe not pull me in, but I feel as if something will compel me to go over the side. So I walk — and drive — toward the middle whenever I can.

Yet I have no measurable fear of heights.

Then there’s trypophobia. Items such as lotus pods with little blisters and eyeball-like seeds give me the heebie-jeebies for no discernible reason. They just do.

Phobias such as this can paralyze you, if you opt to be hyper-aware, if you see monsters under the bed. Especially ones with a zillion eyes.

I can’t say I’ve ever been paralyzed by fear of the things, and it didn’t take much effort to avoid them years ago when I worked for the florist. 

Nonetheless, phobias that make no sense can trick you into dwelling on them. And then they win. Ugh.

Some phobias can’t be beaten, only dealt with. An uneasy truce, with a DMZ if you’re lucky. If ever there were a “know thine enemy” situation, it would be fear itself, to coin a phrase.

The greater challenge is knowing yourself, skills and all, fears and all, to ensure that every day you choose to be your best self, and give yourself to a world that needs your contributions.

Please share

Published by

Bill Zapcic

Husband. Father. Brother. Friend. Journalist and consultant. Roman Catholic deacon. Lover of humanity. Weekly homilist and occasional photographer. Theme images courtesy of Unsplash.com.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *